Lucas
He’d vacuumed the entire downstairs, mopped the kitchen floor, brought in more firewood, and rearranged a perfect pyramid of kindling and logs on the grate, ready for the touch of a lighted match.
His father was locked away in his office. His mother was in her bedroom. Lydia was somewhere with her Finn, and Florie had fluttered out the door to walk down to meet her poet at the Hy-Line ferry.
He hoped that someday soon he could tell his family about Sheila.
He’d met Sheila two years ago during an end of summer beach party at Cisco.
The mob gathered on the beach. Coolers of beer, canned vodka sodas, and chocolate martinis were everywhere.
Folding tables held portable grills steaming with hot dogs and bowls of chips.
Someone had set up a sound system and dance music was blasting.
The sun was low in the sky and guys blissed out on mushrooms were lying on their backs in the sand.
A tall, pretty woman was dancing with her girlfriends, and Lucas couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
She had a stillness about her, a remoteness that drew him in.
As he talked to his buddies he kept checking her out.
The women in his family were anything but chill, ever.
He drifted nearer, and the closer he got, the faster his pulse beat.
Then someone screamed.
“OH NO!” It was a woman’s voice. “My water broke!”
A man next to her yelled, “Gross!”
The vastly pregnant woman was standing, wobbling, bent over, hands on her knees, moaning. “The baby’s coming.”
Several nicely hammered guys stood watching. One of them said, “Cool.”
The pregnant woman was an island girl, a few years older than Lucas. He cast around, searching for her husband, partner, friend, whatever. No one came forward.
Okay, he was on a beach. He’d been a lifeguard.
Lucas slogged through the sand to the woman. Standing next to her, his hands on his knees, echoing her stance, he said, “Amy? It’s Amy, right?”
Amy groaned. “Yes.”
“Where’s…your date?”
“My husband is off-island, picking up some lumber. Oooh,” she grunted. Reaching out, she clutched his arm. “This hurts.”
“I’ll call the EMTs,” Lucas said.
“Wait.” Another woman was suddenly next to them. The woman. She put her hand on the woman’s back. “I’m a nurse. My name is Sheila and I can help you. Let’s time your contractions.” She pulled out her phone.
The pregnant woman moaned. “Now.”
The nurse looked at Lucas. “Do you have a car here?”
Lucas met her eyes. And was instantly, completely, in love. Sheila’s dark hair was pulled back with a clip. She smelled like salt and flowers. Her breasts—how could he not notice them, they were brushing his arm—were full and barely contained by a bikini top.
The last rays of sun lit up her large brown eyes. She was beautiful.
Sheila said, “Hey! Do you have a car here?”
“I do,” he said.
A crowd was beginning to gather around them.
Sheila said, “Back off. Give her some privacy. Nothing to see here.”
The crowd stepped back, muttering. Lucas was impressed with the power Sheila could wield while wearing a bikini. Well, he was also impressed with Sheila in a bikini.
“Another one.” Amy hissed.
Sheila checked her watch. “Okay, that’s really great, Amy. You’re six minutes apart. No need for an ambulance. We’ll get you to the hospital.”
“Can’t walk,” Amy said.
“Lean on me,” Lucas told her. He put his arm around her.
Sheila took Amy’s other side, putting her arm around her back.
One side of Sheila’s hand touched one side of Lucas’s hand. Lucas had to take a deep breath.
The three progressed unsteadily up the sandy beach, each step sinking deep in the sand. All around them, men and women, drunk and sober, cheered loudly, saluting them with their beers held high.
“This place,” Sheila muttered.
They trudged up the sand and across the parking lot to Lucas’s old Saab.
Sheila said, “I’ll get in the back with her. You drive.”
They gently situated Amy in the backseat, with Sheila holding Amy’s head and upper torso. The road was packed dirt, and bumpy. Lucas drove carefully, as fast as he thought was safe.
“How old are you, Amy?” Sheila’s tone was kind.
“Twenty-three. Why is this happening? The baby’s not due for a week.”
“Babies come when they want. Let’s count contractions again.”
Soon they hit pavement, and the ride smoothed out.
“Five minutes apart,” Sheila said. “You’ve got a ways to go. You’re doing just fine.” She managed to access her phone and contact the hospital to let them know they were on their way.
They arrived without getting a ticket for speeding. Lucas pulled into the emergency parking lot, which made him feel strangely proud. He helped Sheila maneuver Amy out of the car into a wheelchair handled by an orderly. They went through the electric doors into the ER waiting room.
A man behind the desk whistled. “Nice bikini, Sheila!”
Sheila barked, “Maternity.” She looked over her shoulder at Lucas. “Will you please wait for me?”
I’ll wait for you forever, Lucas thought, but managed to cough out, “Sure.”
Amy, Sheila, and the orderly went down the hall and through the door and out of sight.
Lucas paced back and forth, sat down, stood up. He went to the admissions desk.
“Hey, do you know Sheila?”
The clerk wasn’t much older than Lucas. He looked good-natured, like Kenan Thompson on Saturday Night Live. He laughed. “She’s too good for you, man.”
“Well, you don’t know that!” Lucas said.
Fake Kenan smiled. “I kinda do.”
Lucas wasn’t even offended. He was pretty sure the clerk was right. “Got it.”
Lucas felt his phone vibrating. He stalked to the other end of the waiting room and answered calls from the beach party, telling everyone the same thing: They were at the hospital, no news yet. Then he continued to pace.
Before long, Sheila returned.
She went to the desk and talked with Fake Kenan. “Her parents are coming with all the health care information.”
“How’s she doing?” Fake Kenan asked.
“She’s still got a long way to go.”
“It’s great that you were there to know what to do and all,” Lucas said politely, wanting to add, So can I kiss you? A lot?
Sheila turned to Lucas. “Can you drive me back to the beach?”
“Sure.” Lucas was proud of himself for sounding laid back.
As they walked to the car, Lucas asked, “Are you a nurse? I mean, at this hospital?”
“I am. Are you a student?”
That flustered him. He guessed she was older, but how damn young did he look? “Yeah. BU.” He didn’t add that he would be a freshman this fall.
He felt her gaze on him. When he turned to look at her, she was smiling. He’d never seen a prettier smile.
She said, “I went to BU. Then to Sargent College. I grew up in central Massachusetts. Hadley. I wanted to see what it’s like living on an island, and here I am.”
“How do you like it?”
“Not sure. I only started here in May. I’ve been told the summers are crazy and the winters are dead.”
“Well, I grew up here, and I think the winters can be fun, just a lot quieter. You’ll get to know people.” Like me, he thought.
They reached the end of the dirt road, just before the land fell off down to the beach. Lucas searched for a place to park and pulled in between two pickup trucks. When he switched off the engine, laughter and music swept up from the beach.
When Sheila didn’t leave the car right away, Lucas’s heart flipped.
He angled his body toward hers. “Who did you come to the party with?”
The night was bright with a high moon in a clear sky. She was interested in him. He could feel it.
“Some friends,” Sheila answered. Her hand was on the door.
Desperate to keep her with him, Lucas asked, “Why did you choose nursing?”
Sheila leaned back in her seat. “As a kid, I was athletic. Gymnastics, field hockey, track team. I like to move, but I realized I was never going to go pro. Then my grandfather got sick and my boyfriend snapped his ankle in three places in football. I saw how necessary nurses were.”
“Is it hard?”
“Yeah, that’s what’s good about it. I’m a naturally calm person, low blood pressure and all that.
I wanted to be an ER nurse. I like the tension, the need to think fast, evaluate fast, work fast, work under pressure, work with a team—” Sheila burst into laughter.
“Damn, you’ve got me all stirred up and I should be chilling. ”
“You’ve got me all stirred up, too,” Lucas said, his voice husky.
Sheila leaned far away from him. “Uh-uh. You are way too young for me.”
He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let her go. “How old do you think I am?”
“Eighteen if you’re a freshman at BU.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two. That’s four years older than you.”
But she didn’t seem offended or uninterested. She was still in the car, and she’d taken her hand off the door.
It was important to him that Sheila knew he was not a player. “How about this, then. Can we be friends? I like talking to you.”
Sheila blinked in surprise. “That’s a—a very kind offer. Yeah, sure, of course. Let’s be friends.”
“So someday I could show you some sort of cool places on the island? And you could tell me about nursing?”
“Yes, sure, I mean, not in the summer because it’s always busy, but in the fall, except you’ll be in Boston—”
“I can come home on weekends. And holidays.” Lucas didn’t care that he sounded eager.
Sheila reached out and touched his cheek with her hand. “Baby,” she said.
Lucas sat very still, his gaze steady. The connection between them was as natural as air. He smiled.
Her breath caught. Sheila pulled her hand away, opened the car door, and stepped out.
“Hey,” he called. “Can I have your email or phone?”
She leaned back into the car and gave him her information, then walked away.
Lucas sat there for a while, smiling. He could wait. He would wait, he was absolutely certain.
And he had. For two years, Lucas had waited, texting or calling, regularly taking her hiking and to dinner when he was on-island.
He told her about the soup kitchen. He could see her respect.
He felt her trust. He was like the puffer fish, making her a perfect emotional home, and he didn’t mind at all because each time she saw him, she liked him more. He could tell.